


crave you

by renfa



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Fluff and Smut, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, no beta we die like men, slight praise kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:21:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23950726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/renfa/pseuds/renfa
Summary: Elias tries something different this time, and fails to keep it up.
Relationships: Elias Bouchard/Jonathan Sims
Kudos: 29





	crave you

**Author's Note:**

> it's been a long while since i'd written smut and it's even longer since i wrote anything at all so forgive me if this is just overall sloppy in general...
> 
> plus this is heavily inspired by a porn i watched so,,
> 
> **edit:** i accidentally put this in the wrong tag last night im so so sorry

Darkness. Wherever he looks, it’s the only thing he could see, pitch black wrapped around his vision like a cloak. He is sat on top of something: solid, heavy, horizontal. It is not a chair, but it is also definitely not something he could figure out without seeing. When he tries to move, he could feel it pressing against him: strange, but not at all uncomfortable. If anything, it sends a little spike of pleasure up his spine, and he squirms a bit in his seat, trying his best to keep still.

There’s a part of him that ought to panic, a part of him that ought to feel afraid.He’s felt this way before many, many times ago that the feeling is not alien to him any longer. Eyes blindfolded and wrists tied firmly to the point where he could barely move — there’s a part of him that ought to be terrified.

And yet he doesn’t. There’s a voice that cuts through the silence, familiar as the song stuck in his head. “Open your mouth,” the voice says, his words low, smooth, and silky. A whispered command — words he can’t help but want to follow. He parts his lips open, slow and uncertain, allowing the silence to wash over him once more. For a moment, there is nothing. He could only taste the air on his tongue, chilly as it bites through him: his body, bare of everything that might give him cover, and his skin, littered with scars of all kinds.

And then it is there, pressing against his tongue, urging him to yield. A ball gag. Gently, it pries him open, and he lets it, mouth parting a little wider as if to accept it. He bites into it and the taste of rubber fills his mouth, strange and yet not unfamiliar. There’s a chuckle that comes beside him, and before he knows it, there’s a hand against his cheek, caressing his skin. 

He tries to pull away at first, startled, but the familiar voice cuts through once again, and he immediately relaxes, leaning in to press closer, chasing for the warmth that sets his insides alight. “Good boy,” the voice whispers, the words a near purr, and he shivers, nearly melting against the body that presses against him.

A thumb rubs against his cheek, gentle, loving. “It looks good on you,” his lover says, and he could almost hear the smile in his voice, adoration mixed with pride. He wants to call him, say his name.  _ Elias.  _ He wants to say something, but the words only come out as a muffled whimper.

Another chuckle, and then another moment of silence. He is gone. Through the darkness, he tries to search for him, turning his way and that, trying to call his name. But there is no response, and the silence washes over him like a tide. Dark and silent. Darkness and silence. He counts the seconds in his head and waits. One beat, two beats, three; wondering where he could have been, figuring out what he could be planning.

It is quiet, all too quiet, that he feels uncomfortable. He tries to yell out his name, but it immediately dies down his throat the moment the sensations begin to kick in. There’s a sudden buzzing between his thighs, faint and quiet. Soft and yet still sudden enough that it startles him, legs shaking a little as he lifts his hips and tries to pull away.

He feels a hand on his hips, pressing him back, holding him still, keeping him from escaping. He whimpers quietly against the gag, and his voice sounds so helpless against his ears that it annoys him. There is another laugh that comes from Elias, and Jon is certain that he is no doubt, taking his pleasure at his obvious helplessness.

He hears a click from somewhere, and the buzzing grows louder, stronger, nearly enough to make him shake. With his lover’s hands holding him down, Jon has no choice but to take in all the sensations. The electric pleasure that courses through him, and the feeling of his lover’s hands on his body, hot and heavy against his skin, holding him down with enough force that he could feel his knees growing weak.

Vaguely, he hears the sound of another click, of another button being pushed. The buzzing grows louder now, nearly deafening in the silence, but he barely notices anything. Torn between chasing the growing pleasure and escaping from it, all he could do is keep still and take it all in, his hips grinding against the device: helpless, wanton, depraved.

But it stops all too suddenly, depriving him of the sensation he now craves. He moans against the gag, frustrated and angry, demanding his lover for a reason without having to use words. It is answered by another laughter, light and playful, and Jon nearly groans in annoyance at the sound of it. He doesn’t have enough patience for another one of his mind games.

“Patience, Jon,” Elias says, in his usual silky tone. With his free hand he teases him, trailing his fingers up in his chest, touching him in places he’s certain would make him squirm. “Can’t have you finishing when we’ve only just gotten started, can we?”

The only response he gets is a moan, choked up and garbled as he shivers against his touch. He smiles, and with a click of another button, the machine starts up once more, alive and pulsing, buzzing and whirring, its sounds loud enough that it’s the only thing he could hear. 

But then it is there, hiding just beneath the buzzing — the sounds his lover makes, beautiful and melodic, like a song against his ears. He watches him carefully, his eyes hungrily drinking in the sight, taking in as much of him as he could: the sweat glistening on his skin, the drool that trickles down the corners of his mouth, and the movement of his hips as he grinds against the device, so wanton, so erotic, and so utterly desperate.

Jon’s voice rises through a crescendo now, and his lover watches him, captivated, enthralled, his eyes never leaving him for a second. He has half a mind to stop it, watch him crumble into anger and frustration, but he decides against it at the last minute, telling himself that it would be alright to indulge himself this once.

There’s a scream, loud and almost deafening as it tears apart through the silence, and all of a sudden, there is silence. He stops and stills, and with a push of a button, everything is over. Jon slumps against the device, legs shaking as he pants and gasps, trying to catch his breath. 

Elias walks over to him, careful not to step on the sticky mess that has spattered beneath his feet. Placing a hand against his cheek, he caresses his face, slow and loving and tender. “You did so well, my love,” he whispers, thumb still rubbing gentle circles against his skin. There’s a grunt of acknowledgment that comes from his lover, grumpy and almost displeased, and Elias laughs, pulling away so that he could remove the gag from his mouth.

It is silent as he unties the blindfold from his eyes and it is silent as he slowly loosens the bindings on his wrist, none of them bothering to say a word. It is comfortable, relaxed, peaceful that he lets it wash over him like a tide.

He pulls away and gives his lover a quiet, charming smile. “You’ve made quite a mess, haven’t you?” he asks, his voice light and his tone teasing. Jon merely glares at him in response, and he laughs, leaning down to press a chaste kiss against the corners of his mouth before gently picking him up, careful not to hurt him. “Let’s get you cleaned up, hm?”

The only response he gets is another grunt.

**Author's Note:**

> to anyone wondering abt the device: it's a simbian
> 
> anyway if u wanna talk abt tma or jonelias or just overall bombard me w requests or ideas, hit me up on tumblr: [**https://sphiria.tumblr.com/**](https://sphiria.tumblr.com/)! maybe i can indulge u... probably.... who knows.... wink wink


End file.
